Uncatchable
by Punzie the Platypus
Summary: Mr. Mellark and Gale observe how both Everdeen women have slipped away from them.


**Thank You, God, for everything.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games. I'm trying to publish a book, and Microsoft Word is being perfectly mucky at the moment. This is me procrastinating. Love you all! And thank God for fanfiction and how they make this site relatively easy to use. Bless. You. **

There was grey snow collected in patches all over the grey dirt of District 12. It was all over Gale's shoes and jacket, and he tried to ignore it as he traveled up the path he had forged to the back door of the Mellarks' bakery. Taking a deep breath and hoping that the wife of the baker was not in to hear him, Gale knocked on the door and took a step back. The door was one that swung out. In his hand was a bag, his hunting bag, holding six squirrels and a rabbit. He was going to try to sell the rabbit, a sickly little thing, to Greasy Sae. Surely she'd want it.

He hadn't been able to get much game. He was mad at himself for that. He had slept in until nearly nine, having worked at the mines the other six days of the week. Sunday was the only day he ever got off, and he had gone hunting, though he had had to return as quickly as he could. Things were getting quite skittish around District 12. There were Peacekeepers everywhere, and everyone were wracked with coughs.

It was the late winter months. Time had gone by rapidly; Gale was eighteen and working at the mines, and the Capitol trains would be coming in any day now to take Katniss and Peeta across the nation for the Victory Tour. He felt his jaw tighten at the thought.

The back door opened, revealing a rather tired looking Mr. Mellark. He looked much like his son, with blonde tousled hair, broad shoulders. He had an older face, though, with not as much natural sweetness like Peeta. The years had gotten to him, though he did have a smile when he saw Gale. "Good morning, Gale."

"Mr. Mellark," Gale said, nodding.

"Got more squirrels for me?" Mr. Mellark said, wiping his hands on the apron that was tied around his waist. Gale nodded and Mr. Mellark said, "How many do you have for me?"

"I've got six," Gale said. He shrugged. "Slow day."

"Six. Okay. So . . . five of the large loaves work for you?" Mr. Mellark said. He was always a generous one, the direct opposite of his shrewd wife, who scared the Seam kids and set the Town kids hurrying away from her. She was shorter than Mr. Mellark, greyer, her hair always pulled back in a bandana, her eyes always piercing through you and making you remember and relive every bad thing you've ever done. Mr. Mellark was much nicer, and despite himself, Gale was occasionally glad that Peeta had inherited his characteristics and not his mother's.

Still. If he was more like his mother, he'd be easier to hate.

Gale, despite himself in these harsh times, knew that Mr. Mellark was being way too generous, and he'd hate to find out if his wife heard of the dealings like this. He shook his head. "Three."

"Four. No arguing. You've got little siblings," Mr. Mellark said. He turned back into the bakery before Gale could say anything. Maybe it was the guy's way with kids. He DID have three sons of his own.

Something caught Gale's eye. It was Katniss walking down the road, her hair in a braid, her head down, her hand clutching a strap of the hunting bag she had from her father. She didn't notice Gale, and he couldn't bring himself to go talk to her. Not after what had happened in the woods a few weeks back. She hadn't tried talking to him since then, and so he didn't try to pursue her.

He watched her turn a corner and walk a bit faster. He turned away from her then, looked at the ground, and only looked up when he heard the back door open.

"Here you go, Gale," Mr. Mellark said, holding out a paper bag.

Gale nodded and handed him the wire holding the tails of the squirrels. Mr. Mellark smiled and said, "Always between the eyes."

"Best place to get them, sir," Gale said politely.

Mr. Mellark knew next to nothing about hunting, but he nodded just the same. He looked from the wire of squirrels and saw something that caught his eye. A girl. It was Katniss. He had seen her a lot that summer, kissing his son. She was unmistakable. Even from the back, she had the same colored hair as her father. Mr. Mellark knew she had his eyes as well.

He let out a breath, and turned to Gale, who was looking away toward her as well.

"Uncatchable, aren't they?" Mr. Mellark said conversationally.

Gale looked startled. "Excuse me, sir?"

"The Everdeens. They just didn't see what was in front of them," Mr. Mellark said. He cleared his throat, like he felt like he was being too bold. "Awfully pretty."

"Not enough, apparently," Gale said. He sounded bitter.

"They were happy, though," Mr. Mellark said.

Gale looked up at the older man, and said, despite the fact that the man in front of him was Peeta's father, "Is she?" and he thanked him for the transaction and turned on his heel and walked the opposite way that Katniss was going. She was always walking through the village, being charitable now, with her new found winner's money. He'd be in the Seam far before she would be.

Gale harbored deep, dark thoughts that he never told anyone but Katniss, and even then. . . He wasn't sure that he lost Mr. Mellark as a customer, but he was sure he disrespected him in some way.

But, at the moment, as Gale stomped through the grey, dirty roads of the Seam, he didn't care.

That was what he thought about the matter.

Simple as that.

**Thanks for reading! God bless you!**


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